your brain is two little girls who talk all day
while you spin film in reels with the very same arms
that went so well around me when you were fourteen
in the entranceway of my house with the cats meowing
and you and I kissing kissing forever and the stars
falling all around in the middle of the day and time
speeding up and throwing us against the future like
the round-up at the fair we take
our feet off the ground and we are there,
the place where the little girls of your brain
start digging into the glowing cantaloupe of my soul with
huge round spoons, licking their lips and gasping
with delight and deliciousness

Ocean

My toes are little babies falling out of the water.

I am a 20 x 40 foot blue painting in which
the modern artist approaches excessiveness.

My arms are in the air; the surf is white!
Refill the ice cube trays. This ocean is from the freezer.